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TheOBGYNread the room and determined this was no joyous occasion.Insteadof congratulating me, she glanced at my chart, likely calculating my age based on my date of birth.Twenty-one wasn’t unceremoniously young.Nonetheless,Iwas too young to be a mother, soIgrabbed denial by the horn.
“Nothingis coming to me at a bad time becauseI’mdefinitely not pregnant.”
Thedoctor sighed.Shedidn’t wake up thinking she’d spend her day defending science to a recent college graduate. “Bloodtests are definite,Piya.You’repregnant.”
“Ihave been on the shot sinceIwas seventeen,”Irefuted, “so it’s impossible for me to be pregnant.”ThoughIknew my fate was sealed,Ispoke with unyielding confidence.IfIrefused to be pregnant, it would somehow overturn results determined by twenty-first-century medicine.
“Birthcontrol shots are only 94% effective.Yourchance at pregnancy increases if there are delays between appointments, especially with consummation during the period when the shot is less effective.”
Ifelt lightheaded as the truth became harder and harder to deny.Fuck.Ishouldn’t have pushed back my last appointment.
Ithad been two weeks sinceMilan’swedding.Ispent the entirety of the time moving out of my parent’s home and into my new apartment.Allthe while,Ihad been haunted by memories ofAxel.Oncethe move had commenced, andIhad nothing left to distract me, doubt had seeped in ifI’dmade the right decision.Ifwalking away fromAxelwas the right call, why the fuck did it feel so damn wrong?
Isuccumbed to my inner demons and drove toChateauat theHempsteadto track him down.Ihad to stop myself right before taking the plunge.Everyoneelse’s words and my past drenched doubt in the seemingly magical night we shared.Whenyou had been burnt by men as many times as me, you started questioning your ability to tell the good ones apart from the bad apples.
Afterthe inner turmoil, something worse came to mind;Ihad unprotected sex with a stranger.
DidAxeldo that often with other women?
Wewere so caught up in the moment that condoms seemed frivolous.Superself-destructive behavior—Iknow—but at leastIwas on the shot.Still... wasAxelcallous in general or only with me?
Ihad no idea if he slept around without protection and needed to take anSTDtestASAP.IfIwere clean, it might mean thatIwas an exception forAxelas he had been for me, and perhaps there was hope after all.Oncethe results of mySTDtests came back negative, and ifIstill couldn't stop thinking about the stranger,I’ddrive back to the venue.
Insteadof calling onAxel,Icalled on a doctor.
Well, theSTDtests came back negative; it just so happened that another test came back positive.Consideringhow many timesAxelhad fucked me that night, should this really be a surprise?
Whenthey administered theSTDtest, they also tested the blood for a possible pregnancy.NowIwishedIhadn’t gotten tested, as if living in denial would somehow absolve me of this reality.
“Ifthis isn’t something you’re ready to handle… we can talk about your options,” she said pointedly.
Myhead snapped up to meet her gaze.Shemeans an abortion.Fuck.Ialways assumed that termination of pregnancy was reserved for teenagers after prom night.Itseemed like a bizarre choice for someone my age, a person with a job and a new apartment.
HowdidIget here?Thiswas a predicamentIhad never faced or considered.
Thedoctor discussed various options and handed me pamphlets for clinics in case motherhood wasn’t for me.Allthe while,Istared at her blankly.Myhand splayed over my stomach, stroking the skin.Inever possessed any superior motherly instincts.Itseemed irresponsible for nature to put me in charge of another life.Accordingto everyone,Iwas a mess.WhatdidIknow about taking care of another human?Ihad no business taking on such endeavors, so why hadIbeen charged with safeguarding this life?I’dbe held accountable if anything were to happen to it.Itwas terrifying… yet oddly beautiful.
“C-canIsee it?”
“It?”
“The…”Myvoice trailed off asIsearched for the word to describe the tiny being inside me.Babywould sound too official, andIcouldn’t possibly entertain a different choice after acknowledging the word.Fetussounded too clinical, so instead,Ipointed at my stomach.Ineeded to confront the entity growing inside me before proceeding with a decision that would irreversibly affect him or her.
“Youcan do an ultrasound in a few weeks.”
Afew weeks was so far away. “Oh, okay.But… how doIknow what it looks like?”Iblurted.
“Whatdo you mean?”
Oncemore,Ipointed at my stomach.
“Small,” she said softly.
“Howsmall?”Iheld up two slender fingers to convey the size of the fetus.Mythumb and index finger barely touched, with an inch of space between them. “Thisbig?”
Thedoctor’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and her lips twitched. “Smaller.”Shepressed my dainty fingers together, leaving no room, to indicate the size. “Fetusesare generally the size of a poppy seed at conception.”
Istared at my fingers in disbelief.Howcould a poppy seed so small upend my life so majorly?
